


The Mafia: Open Derivative of an Imaginary Epsilon

by DeathScythe12



Category: NU'EST, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blood and Violence, Death, Gore, M/M, Mafia Game, Role-Playing Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23258902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathScythe12/pseuds/DeathScythe12
Summary: An invitation printed in a plain blank white paper in a beautiful calligraphy. Teasing ink eats the expanse of it, mostly, with words that are more bothersome than comfortable — a true definition of hassle.You are all invited to participate in this game.For two full weeks, pretending as strangers, you will live in this beautiful place in accordance with your roles. This place is run systematically so timed behavior is greatly appreciated.Punctuality is favored; obedience is a must.Reason for the invite? Motivational revenge brought by love.Funny? Maybe.Real? Depends. Whatever floats on your boat.Dangerous? Certainly.Live and find me. Though I doubt you will.Don't worry. There are prizes to be distributed at the end.Thank you.Mafia
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Kudos: 4





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> With the busy days of battling COVID-19 and being stucked in the hospital due to work, my phone also decided to reboot.  
> Yep. Lost all of my files.  
> The back-up's doing so little, and I am forcing and frying my brain to rewrite my erased chapters. Boo hoo ; _ ; A real pity because I have already written chapters for The Great Coincidence and Melt the Water, Scorch the Fire.  
> Instead, it gave me this.
> 
> As a warning, this is tagged as explicit because it is MORBID. Yep. Bloody. It can also contain sexual content, swearing, violence . . . whatever that would make this story going.  
> Also note that I really just follow Seventeen (with occasional listening to Nu'est and other Youtube recommendations) that some characters appearing from different groups are technically have a low to medium participation in this story.  
> And since it contains death . . . don't read this if youre seriously uncomfortable to do so. Please.  
> The first few chapters will be also boring. Just saying.  
> PS: This world is somewhat connecte to Intersect the Parallel Lines. So you could say that the family relations in that story is SAME here.
> 
> Thank you for taking time to read this piece of crap.

The first thing they ever saw was red.

It wasn't red per se; more like bordering brown. The white walls were painted in it, some blotched, others bright, the rest constant. The furnitures were sprayed on too, and it looked like it was done on purpose.

In a sense, it _was._

You see, a pair of eyeballs rest on the table situated in front of of pungent bed, staring at the visitors. On it's back stood a pair of amputated legs, cut irregularly from the knees. The blood was everywhere and it was disgusting.

Someone manned enough to peek at the remains lying on the bed. He looked around, eyes anxious of what's waiting for him. He tried muting off the screams, murmurs, and sobs of those who stayed by the door, and walked into the bed's right.

If someone could tell him a good job, he supposes he did really well.

Whilst the corpse was still clothed enough, the head was detached from the mid of the neck, as well as it's arms. The lips were stitched crookedly with a black thread. Ears removed and placed on the bed, aligned across on were it should be. On its chest, the cutoff hands lay palms up, holding a ripped heart.

Wonwoo just threw off once his mind registered the scene.


	2. Memorandum Circular: Love (?) Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boring set of invites in twelve different versions. With a fucking extra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is long.  
> Like hell long.  
> But it is essential because the invite says something about their chatacters or a hint with their pasts.  
> Sorry for crapping sixteen pages in ine chapter.  
> *Peace*

An invitation printed in a plain blank white paper in a beautiful calligraphy. Teasing ink eats the expanse of it, mostly, with words that are more bothersome than comfortable — a true definition of hassle.

**One. Memorandum Circular: Love (?) Letter**

Being in a room with a long dining table filled with plenty of food served isn't unusual. Celebrations are not really hard to plan, sometimes, immediate calls or simple texts are enough. It is, though, when you end up sitting on one without even consenting into attending in the gathering itself.

If Wonwoo could choose, he wished he was lying on his bed at home, cuddling his tabby black cat Onyx. They'd laze around all day; Onyx eats his food beside Wonwoo in a chair during dinner and then the author will quietly watch a television show while patting the sleeping cat.

But there he is, impeccably handsome, dressed in the most expensive suit in a mix of red and black, hair permed into perfection, as he enters a Function Hall. He was ushered to a station in the corner, sitting alone at a table whose distance from other guests is quite _questionable._

When he received a weird invite he had found in his doormat a few weeks ago, he ignored it first. He did read it though. Within a white sheet of thick paper, blue inked calligraphy filled the expanse of it which says:

_Jeon Wonwoo,_

_I have seen your life for the past three years you've lived as a meager writer for those undeserving talents of our country. At first I was certain that you'd come around and remember anything from all the clues I've ensured to be around you; unfortunately, however, your dormant brain decided to protect you from all costs._

_Not that I minded, your safety is my number one priority._

_To celebrate the fourth year of your innocence, I am inviting you over for a two-week long gathering with people that had made your life this way._

_Don't fret, my love. I am a gracious host, of course, everything is taken care of fully by me._

_Oh, I have actually summoned the audiences into one of my most beautiful cities. You'll live there with everyone. I am not even giving you a choice; you'll succumb to my orders anyways. I hope you could pretend you're excited._

_And see you soon, Love._

_Mafia_

_P.S. I know you're aren't eager to do so, but I am warning you now. It didn't please me to be apart with you for so long that's why I'm doing this._

The author thought it was just from one of his crazy fans out there. It wasn't his fault that his novels were also a hit aside from his written dramas that received great responses — others were such a huge hit — that the company he had signed with gave him all the privacy he loved without further ado. Satisfying bucolic life by the coast with his lazy cat, working over a revived laptop, and cursing the uncooperative Wi-Fi connection is his life.

Still, he just woke up on a cruise ship traveling to the great unknown, attending the most unbearable party of his life. Every guest has a table for themselves, and nobody was too keen in trying to see the patience limit of the armed men situated on the second floor.

Trying to calm down, he proceeds to nibble the garlic bread that has just been placed on his small table with a glass of white wine.

**^ × ^ ฅ^●ﻌ●^ฅ ^ × ^**

Mingyu frowns from the distance as he sees a tense man eating his appetizer rigidly at the leftmost front table.

He hasn't seen him for years — four years to be exact — and while he's happy, he's also scared of its implications. Nobody knows that he survived; hopelessness succumbed in his entirety when the man left no traces of his life at all. It isn't easy for him to just stand idly and just watch from afar, when his soul is within his reach.

But his mind remembers the offending letter he had received in his company's building a few weeks ago, purple ink glaring from the white innocent sheet engulfed in a black envelope that carries nothing but his name scribbled in flawless calligraphy. 

_Kim Mingyu,_

_I have known your sacrifices and your wishes as you lived your programmed life since the day you were born. The struggles were palpable, and your faking smile didn't escape my notice. You succeeded, of course, and I didn't even doubt that; those tall buildings are painted in your talent, standing through your beautiful designs._

_Still, it didn't show your true self; a real shame._

_To celebrate the pain you've wordlessly endured, I have invited you over for a two-week long gathering with people who may or may have not made you this way._

_It's okay, my dearest. We'll handle it well._

_By the way, I have actually summoned those rats into one of my most beautiful cities. You'll live there with everyone as you act like your deceptive self. I am not even giving you a choice; you owe me anyways. Have fun, okay?_

_And see you soon._

_Mafia_

_P.S. I know you're aren't excited to see them, but I am hinting you something now. A great great surprise is waiting for you. Surely you'll appreciate the redundancy._

Its contents was never been a bother. Especially now that he's within arms' reach. However, the tall man can't help but wonder how right would it be if he's beside him . . .

**° × ° ∪・ﻌ・∪ ° × °**

Sometimes, Jeonghan hated his long auburn shoulder length hair. It was kind of bothersome and high maintenance, a questionable feat for someone whose ass is as lazy as a sloth, if he can compare.

He could cut off the silky strands, but knows a very special someone will be disappointed if he does so. The very man who kept praising his visual difference, adoring his courage to embrace his uniqueness and not care about the useless whispers that never made him gain anything worth mentioning for his life.

So, he tamed it in a low ponytail, right fringe still wildly free to fly across his pretty face.

Other than the bearable discomfort, he wished he could choose to escape the boring party where nobody can talk to his or her left and right. And as if it isn't enough, their small tables are scattered all around the room; the distance putting the small cramped classrooms into shame especially during examination periods. He was stationed in the center, and he looks at his back, where his soul smiles silently at him.

He frowns, thinking about that nondescript letter he had received, written in an angry pink hue. The envelope is as plain as the still white where the message was scripted, unfitting for his extravagant preferences.

_Yoon Jeonghan,_

_One of those who had gathered beauty and put people into shame; I have known what it is like to be thrown in nothingness. We both knew it, and had somehow made it our rightful ally. And now we found a place to belong, a home to return to, it's hard to imagine that we have been the traitor we should've been._

_Regrettably, both of us failed. So much for perfection._

_For all the unsaid apologies, I have made you one of my guests for a two-week long vacation with the people who have been rather disputable if they should've been in your life._

_Not that I have any objections; it is your life, not mine, anyways._

_As one of my guests, I have actually invited some pests into one of my most beautiful cities. So you'll stay there with everyone. I am not even requesting you to do so; this is an outright demand. Doing so, isn't hard, right? Wishing you're looking forward to it._

_See you soon._

_Mafia_

_P.S. I know you're wishing for boring days. But where's the fun in that? Spicing it up a little isn't bad once in a while._

Sighing, he tears the letter in annoyance. His life has done well now and he feels that in a matter of days, it will shatter like a useless piece of mirror.

Still, it isn't bad to dream and hope, correct?

So he smiles at the server and asked for a glass of vodka, ignoring the expensive wine, staring at him from a thin piece of glass.

**•×• є { ✦ ө ✦ } э •×•**

He has always loved being an entertainer.

Screams and laughter is his best weapon against self-entitled people. He is good with words, sometimes perceived as rude and or as attention seeking. Often times, he'd brush them off, because even though the people who should've loved it, hated that aspect of him, there are people who adored that talent of his.

But behaving as a guest? He's awkward as hell.

Seungkwan kept fidgeting in his seat, frowning. They are distanced quite apart and strides would surely do injustice with how far they are from each other. He had already made eye contact with his best friend stationed at the other side of the room. The other also offered him a sympathetic smile, knowing well how uncomfortable Seungkwan is with the situation.

Pouting, he frowns over the crumpled letter-sized paper. Dark orange ink stares at him, and he hated seeing, more so reading it again.

_Boo Seungkwan,_

_The loud, but brave friend of mine. Every nonsense that you spout out of those luscious lips is as commendable as your ability to keep secrets. It was very interesting, to see a pure person like you say lies. Though I don't know if you'd be happy hearing that. You've always valued honestly and often times, at fault._

_At least, both of us survived. And had lived a life in temporary peace._

_As apologetic as I am, I have invited you as one of my VIPs for a two-week long vacation that may have or have not entangled our lives into a mess._

_Sorry but I need to force you in this. Oh. Not sorry, by the way._

_Being a VIP doesn't have any perks. I just actually like to make you live with beasties into one of my most beautiful cities. That's your worst nightmare. I know. Unfortunately, I am obliging you to do so._

_Love you bestie._

_Mafia_

_P.S. There's karaoke here. You've missed singing, didn't you? Don't worry your plumply ass, I have knocked some sense into your parents' brain dead neurons._

The man squeals in surprise when a server taps his hunched shoulder, asking for what it is that he wants. Then he blinks, focuses on his table full of spicy crabs and red wine. Sighing, he shakes his head as he frowns.

He suddenly misses his Mom.

**^ × ^ ▽❍(oo)❍▽ ^ × ^**

Junhui hated boredom. The latter follows him, though. Like a shadow. And he absolutely loathes it.

Despite his poor eyesight, seeing his best friend walking like a zombie lost in a mutant-based community is absolutely hilarious. He's somewhat sure the man is alive even if nobody believed him. Well, that's fair enough. Only Wonwoo believed in him too. So the feeling's mutual.

And that's why boredom lived with him for years. Because whatever Wonwoo weaved, there's where the excitement was. And since he's back, hopefully for good, he knows that the fun is just about to start.

After finishing his current glass of rum, he happily called a server to ask for an entire bottle if whisky, a bucket of ice, and nachos. While waiting for his celebratory feast, a three-folded letter caught his attention. It was open and was glaring at him in moss green tinge. He smiles.

_Wen Junhui,_

_A man of glamour and of disguise. Holding on to a life that was nothing but a makeshift for your lies. Funny that nobody tells you about it. And the thrill that comes with such dramatic revelations — truly entertaining. Often times you feign ignorance and schemes, but is nothing but a connoisseur for other people's suffering._

_We're cut from the same cloth, dearest friend. No need to downplay things._

_That's why I'm sure you'll attend my party! There would be some bothersome people coming . . . but they aren't important. They are just my playthings anyway._

_I really hope you could come. And I know, you'll feel my attempt for sarcasm, dude._

_With it, I hope you'll find me as a gracious host. Usually, gathering hard headed individuals are taxed, but I promise I'll deliver. Besides, you'd get to drink for an unlimited time! Bottoms up! Maybe we can have some drinking session. That is if we ever met._

_Hoping for your consideration? Ha ha ha._

_Mafia_

_P.S. I know you're definitely coming that's why I've stocked the bar full. You know, only alcoholics know the happiness its bitterness brings._

He chuckles and instantly brightens at the sight of a filled tray carried to him. The man then eagerly grabs the bottle and drank from it. Manners aren't needed if you're dying soon, anyways.

**° × ° Ⴚტ⇀ﻌ↼ტჂ ° × °**

Smiling like a boss, Jisoo sauntered into the long table of edibles. The waiters say you could of course stand up and fetch your own food; most guests in the room decided to stay put though. But the ever gentleman can never calm his anxiety if he's plainly sitting down.

A kind server handed him a square shaped ceramic plate and a ton. He happily accepted the gesture and asked politely about the foods served. All of these movements were nothing but a ploy to make his mind, forget that torn letter, sitting in his place, now all fixed and taped.

He could still remember the indigo ink printed on the white plain canvas, and hated every word of it.

_Kim Jisoo,_

_Do you remember the nights where we moved closer into the shadows and brought distraught to unsuspecting men? How about the times where we pretend like puppets and obeyed every order barked at us? I doubt you even forgot what our days like when we felt we're alone and everybody had taken everything away from us._

_I haven't forgotten. Really. Sadly to say, though, I found out whispers._

_It might be unfair for us to meet this way; however, please know that the reason for this invitation is totally irrelevant from my opening. The gathering isn't for that._

_Of course I missed our bond. I'm sincerely pouring out my emotions here, partner._

_And because I heard things, I got bored. Horrendous, right? But those gullible eggheads are coming and I'm way too excited about it! I just wanted to see how their faces will be like. You're definitely coming, right? I know you're interested, anyway._

_You won't be disappointed._

_Mafia_

_P.S. Here I am in a newly painted room. The fumes are all over, but your marks are certainly defined in here. I hope you didn't mind my intrusion._

Jisoo bows lightly, turning his back into the pretentious servers as his hand clenches on the bare plate which he decided to fill with nothingness as a gentle smile plaster his face.

**•×• / ( ≧오≦ ) \ •×•**

Honestly, he doesn't know what he's doing in this laughable gathering.

People are wide apart, foods served are bland, room displays are boring . . . well, maybe except the wines. The entire collection had already been taste thoroughly by Minghao just within a few hours. He isn't complaining about that single aspect of the party. Or if it is worthy enough to be called one.

Oh. The absurdity of the situation made it certainly impossible to be called one.

But the invite scribbled in some weird ass calligraphy made way into his humble abode few weeks ago. It was in a dark yellow ink, and Minghao clearly remembers squinting while furiously reads the bright colored texts.

_Xu Minghao,_

_Did you ever reminisce about how we are fooling around episodes years prior? How about the days when we played a game wherein they never suspected you at all as the villain? Me? I always do. Because it was amusing that people always think of me as one when it was always you all along. But I'm not mad at all. Promise._

_Because of it, I decided to include you in my crazy plan!_

_Though I haven't forgotten our bonds, I have remembered your betrayal. That hurt me the most, because you're one of the people I have ever trusted._

_I never meant any harm; It's just that I feel so lonely as of the moment._

_That's why I'm proud to tell you that I have organized an amazing celebration! The other guests may have sucked — because they indeed are — however, I know that you'll fit with them. 'Cause you could fool them for me! Your payback to me!_

_Please enjoy! See you there!_

_Mafia_

_P.S. I know that you know that I was never mad at you. I just like dramatics for the heck of it, as usual. Sorry for lying. Surely, once we meet, I know that I'll be made fun of again._

Chuckling, he decidedly stood up and took a wine glass before heading to the paintings hanged on the walls. At least, he could flaunt his impeccable style in black sleeveless coat, white sleeveless crisp shirt tucked under black pants, finished with a red choker.

**^ × ^ ๑⊕ ▥ ⊕๑ ^ × ^**

Pacing back and forth. Walking nonstop, without any coherent thought. That's how Jihoon kept himself stuck in the spacious toilet. He had always hated going out, and only a few knew about it. Sadly, an idiot didn't think so.

He stops, then leaned forward into the lavatories. With piercing eyes, he stared back into the mirror. At first, he thought it was one of Junhui's plots to either prank or pester him. His suspicion is proved wrong; he followed Junhui for a few days after he received the letter and saw that the man received one too.

It doesn't make any sense to Jihoon at all. Any of this.

Sighing, he pulls out the letter he had received a few weeks ago. The small man hastily opens it, rolling his eyes over the hot pink ink coloring only a certain part of the page.

_Lee Jihoon,_

_It was such a shame that just because of your blood nothing really worked out, isn't it? We have both known that no matter what happens and whatever we do, everything will be for naught. But you decided to risk it. Because you believed that there is a way. More so, because that is where your happiness will be._

_Unfortunately, everything blew apart and you almost lost your entirety._

_I'm proud to tell you that I haven't moved on. Maybe it's quite assuming of me to think that maybe you are too. It doesn't really matter now, 'cause I'm going to make my move._

_Sorry. That's all I can offer you now. Because I have to ask you to help me with this._

_Of course, it will not just open a can of worms, but also the scars you have buried in the deepest of hell. And I'll start it by forcing you to attend this gathering with those people who have made you decide all those things in the past._

_I'll bear the burden with you._

_Mafia_

_P.S. I won't allow you to escape from me. I get to decide on everything and I am not offering you any choices. No worries. I won't abandon you like them._

Angrily, he pounds the wall and ends up scooting at the corner before the cubicles. He screams and huffs then pulls his hair in frustration.

"Fucker."

**° × ° (V● ●V) ° × °**

He has always hated unplanned, uncoordinated, and unimportant meetings. Well, especially when you see that almost your entire family is present at a fucking awkward gathering, it becomes an entirely different story.

Seungcheol had studied useless courses in his years of living mainly because it affects his family. He decided on regrettable decisions, played with dangerous actions, and mourned over obvious losses mostly due to his filial bonds and oaths.

Now is actually a happy time, for him, if he could just actually entertain it. There is that missing man he has never forgotten over the years, alive and well. And seeing that seemed enough as of the moment.

What's troublesome is being actually being manipulated and kidnapped to stay in a moving vessel whose destination is obviously unknown. Groaning, he stands up and goes into the back by the bar. The bartender asked for an invite copy because the entire alcohol and wine collections are for guests only.

Begrudgingly, he fishes a folded paper from his breast pocket. It was folded until its most little capacity, and even Seungcheol frowns from his decision as he unfolds it. And that's how his eyes made contact with the black ink that made him realize again how fucked up his current situation is.

_Jeon Seungcheol,_

_Anger had always been your trademark, something that didn't go well with your innocent face. Your patience was something I was really envious of since I haven't had that trait. But I hated that, too, because you didn't like red. Those useless men always part with the Earth with a surprising smile on their faces; a feature of yours that I definitely love._

_It is kind of a pity that we have to end this way, when we could've been in better positions._

_With calm demeanor, I am organizing a reunion. For all of us. Strange to do it now, yes, though it can't be helped. There is no right time anyways in confronting demons._

_And with all due regret, I'll be forcing you to attend, through thick and thin._

_Note that the costs may or may not be completely attending. I have only warranted the main characters are the ones of the hot commodities of the moment, and you know, they could be busying themselves just for the heck of it. Avoidance isn't ignorance._

_Let's enjoy the greatest way to hell._

_Mafia_

_P.S. Surprise! Yeah. So there is a very good surprise waiting for you at our reunion. You know. . . you'll be left shocked. Promise._

With a deep breath, Seungcheol slams the letter on the counter, then manly orders a pure shot of Russian vodka to drown himself in.

**•×• ≈/ Ò ﻌ Ó \≈ •×•**

He misses the feeling of a passing fresh air in his body.

An excuse, technically. But Seokmin isn't really happy to stay in a closed hall with invisible shadows of the other guests. So, he sneaks out and pleased himself with a cigarette stick. An indulgence that would surely make his older brothers go feral at him.

As he inhaled his first smoke, he fishes out his invitation. The boring white outweighs the royal blues; all showy for his liking.

_Jeon Seokmin,_

_The kindest man I have ever met. With a very good exception whenever you're in your Pridefully Awesome Mode — a very annoying scene I never want to witness ever again. But your good heart had always separated you from wilting people I have always hated. You have always loved your family dearly, and that is commendable. Very commendable._

_Should we have met in a different circumstances, maybe we could've been friends._

_Through this sorrowful introduction that I am breaking a surprising news for you: I'm organizing an event. A fucking party to be exact. Aren't you excited?_

_And you have guessed it right, you're invited! Yey! *Inserting a Clapping BGM*_

_Oh! Be warned that gatecrashers are welcome to attend. You know, for fun purposes. I certainly hoped you don't mind. In a way, you knew, if not all, most of them anyways. Surely you'll be having a nice time during your stay._

_Parties are fun, isn't it?_

_Mafia_

_P.S. Maybe you could allow me to borrow your voice during some days? Because, you know, funerals are best handled in a celebration . . ._

"Hey, you!"

Seokmin snapped his head up and looked at his left, grinning playfully at the armed guard. He didn't seem to be bothered with being held at gunpoint. "Get inside!"

The man takes the cigarette resting on his lips and whines. "It's boring in there!"

Nothing was retorted after his complaint, except for a harsh poke on his back that made him stumble forward.

"Okay! I get it!" He raises his arms in the air, like he has surrendered at the command. "Just let me finish this!"

When he says the guns being lowered down, Seokmin immediately aligns the corner of the paper into his cigarette butt. The flames engulfed the innocent thing, ashes crumbling down the floor. He then lets go of the lit butt, steps on it to appease the flame.

"Boring times," he murmurs as he picked the trash and followed the guards inside the suffocating hall.

**^ × ^ ˘๑⌒ϖ⌒๑˘ ^ × ^**

Sneaking is his specialty. A bad habit he had learned through his uncle, which is greatly frowned upon by his father. But he's fucking curious about what's the entirely of the carrier really looked like.

He saunters slowly like a snake, and feigning motives when caught. Unfortunately, he ends up in the kitchen, which is on the back of the hall.

Hansol surprises the caterers at his intrusion; his awkward posture, says that he didn't mean to end up there. He grins, then stifles a laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "Hey!" He greets. "The food's great, actually. I was just wondering if you could cater a request? It isn't hard though." Lies sprouts out of his unfiltered tongue.

A bulky man with a butcher's knife walked to him, not buying his reason. "If it's great, what's the request for?"

"Just missed home." He slumps. "You know . . . family dinners are —"

"What do you want?" The chef interjects, unimpressed.

"Jjajjangmyeon." He bobs his head, trying to look convincing. "You guys served japchae but not that."

Mr. Burly Chef stares at him for awhile, then relents. Maybe Hansol's wide smile was that powerful to make the man submit to his ploy.  
As respect, he removes the hands on his pockets as he straightens up and bows. He then merrily walks back until a sous stops him to give him a two fold paper. Hansol smiles again and thanked the man then crumples the paper and threw it away. It wasn't because whatever it says isn't important; he clearly remembers the gray ink that conveyed the message for him.  


_Jeon Hansol,_

_Did you ever know that I haven't believed the rumors about how you've never been mad, at all. An absurd claim; nobody's a saint. Surely you've been angered to perfection too. If not, maybe surprised to death? Sheesh. I hated you sometimes because most often than not I can't read your mind because you're technically so blank._

_You perceive things differently; I guess it wasn't so bad that we're kind of enemies now._

_However, you're not exempted in any of this. With those of great importance, you are duly invited in the most pretentious party of the year._

_It's going to be a blast! Certainly!_

_Of course, you won't be alone in this social endeavor. You'd be together with my meager guests who all have played something in making my life miserable. Well, not entirely miserable. In anguish, maybe._

_And it's supposed to be fun, so you should enjoy._

_Mafia_

_P.S. Technically speaking, we have met. And I remember correctly that you have a dyed shirt on with red glasses. Maybe we could talk about wardrobes?_

He just strides back into his seat, grinning playfully at his caught-in-the-act uncle who's being escorted back to his seat.

**° × ° (๑❂ ﻌ ❂๑) ° × °**

If Soonyoung could choose, he'd prefer to be in the Amazons with the tigers. If he ends up being eaten by the carnivores, he certainly wouldn't mind in the slightest.

Unfortunately, there he is, pouting over a plate of kimchi rice, kimchi jeon, and kimchi stew.

It isn't the food's fault; after all kimchi is supreme against all other delicacies. However, Jihoon isn't back yet from the toilets. And he swears he isn't timing in the other man's duration in the maybe tiny room, but it's been thirty minutes since then.

Stressed, he called for a waiter and ordered a corn dog filled with additional bacon and mozzarella cheese. He pouts, legs restless, and kept glancing over the closed doors.

Distracting himself, he decides to recite the open letter leaning by the table piece, whose innocent orange print seemed guilty enough for him to care.

_Kwon Soonyoung,_

_The ever giddy guy who isn't used to boredom. A person who never knew the secrets of his surroundings nor cared about what the people hid in the shadows. Still, you believed in everybody, blind to their motives, deaf to their complaints, and numb to their needs. It made you less of a human, but more of an animal; I hated you for it._

_Because you ignored the world, you unwillingly orbited in my world and my troubles._

_So now, I hope that you have at least an idea why you're included in this. If you don't have a hint, then your brain cells must be already on the verge of comatose due to dumbness._

_The most you could do is get your ass in my party._

_You'd be attending with some imbeciles, if not, criminals in this gathering. Don't fret; you're one of them, too. So we all get to meet, reminisce about our boring days, deadly actions, and questionable decisions. It would be fun._

_Because fun starts at death._

_Mafia_

_P.S. If we could be in a place where everything is settled with just nothing but silence, I guess we'll be in a better place. And maybe, just maybe, we'll be friends._

Soonyoung huffs, and found himself unheard. Each guest is busy with their own issues, and somehow, it isn't pleasing to know. A creaking sound made him look over again to the toilets, relieved to see Jihoon's distressed silhouette. 

Then he excitedly eats the kimchi dishes, not minding if his impending death is near. So long as Jihoon is safe and alive, then the world will always be a better place.

**•×• m(=ቨ王ቨ=)m •×•**

He isn't an attendee.

Basically, he was forced to be in that insufferable place for as long that person's plan is in the works. It isn't easy, especially when all of their lives, including him, is in danger.

Chan stood in the mirror, admiring how the plain white suit hugs his bodice perfectly. Truthfully, he's not used to his new life yet. It is quite enjoyable, yes, but not when you're living in a dream that has a percentage close to zero to ever happen.

A ringing noise disturbed his already bothered mind.

He pats his pockets for his phone and answers immediately.

 _"Dad?"_ He smiles. " _Not really. I'm fine. — Changkyun is just downstairs; pizza and chicken deliveries have arrived for dinner. — Yes. I promise. — Don't worry, Mom. I'm really okay. We haven't done anything worth mentioning aside from completing The Purge movies. — I promise. I'm coming home, okay? I'll contact you again, soon. — I love you,too. Relay that to Dad, too, please. 'Bye."_

Frowning, he hangs the call. Lying is coming easily now, and he hated it. But he should do so; he's blessed that Changkyun agreed to his whims easily, if a newly bought yacht is anything but discreet.

Chan sends a message to his best friend, who just responds with an okay sign. At least, the lies would have a believable flow.

Taking a deep breath, the small man straightens himself, and walks straight out to the podium to do his job.

**^ × ^ @ • ェ • @ ^ × ^**


End file.
